


Memories

by mamadeb



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: AU, Episode: s05e15 Hunters, F/M, Growing Old Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-10 02:22:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19898302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamadeb/pseuds/mamadeb
Summary: Janeway and Chakotay, together my way.A companion piece to"Go Not Gentle."





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> This is an entirely new universe for me, as well as my first truly het story. It happens after "The Hunter" and there are spoilers.
> 
> Disclaimer: Paramounts, not mine. I make no profits therefrom.

Chakotay walked into their quarters as quietly as possible. She'd left the lights on for him as usual, as she had for the past few years, when his night vision had all but disappeared. One more thing to accept. 

He changed into a nightshirt. Power levels were down at the moment and B'Elanna insisted that cabins be kept at a fairly low temperature. Only those from hot planets were exempt. This was nothing new. The miracle was that Voyager was still functioning after all these decades. It was almost as miraculous as the fact that crew was still a unit and that he himself was capable of duty. He was down to half shifts, just like the remainder of the original crew - those who hadn't retired already. 

He slipped into the bedroom, which was at 25% light. He slid into bed next to his wife. She stirred, as he knew she would. Captains sleep lightly and she was a captain to her very bones. He gave her a kiss and she smiled and settled down again. He just looked at her. Her hair was purest silver, her skin was a soft network of wrinkles - there was a lifetime recorded on her face. He could see laughter and pain and worry and sorrow, and, above all, responsibility, there. She was as beautiful as she was the day she'd stopped hiding from him. 

* * *

The party was over. It had been a good idea - part celebration, part wake. It helped with the combination of letters from home and the news that some of them bore. Chakotay wanted to push that news in the back of his mind. He made sure the other Maquis knew. He'd seen them cry and rage and accept, since there was nothing else they could do. He thought he'd accepted it, too, just as the captain had accepted what her fiance had done. What her former fiance, now a married man, had done.

The focus of the party were the letters from home. As Chakotay wandered around the Mess Hall, he could hear scraps of conversation. 

An ensign from sciences. "There's a passage here from my daughter. She was just learning to read when we left. Now...now she's playing Parisis Squares. She's a champion. I wonder what she looks like..." 

A crewman from engineering and his new lover. "He's waiting for me. He's letting his life slip by. Oh, sweetheart, what will we do?" 

A security guard from the Maquis. "I have a brand-new niece! My brother was just engaged when we left. I was supposed to be best man...I'll bet she's beautiful." 

A security guard from Star Fleet. "My dad got a promotion. All my mom can do is gripe about Star Fleet. Nothing's changed. Thank goodness." 

A group of Maquis in the corner, with close Star Fleet friends surrounding them. "I can't believe it's all over. I hated that fight, but it meant something, and now it's gone. I wish we never found that damn Bajorran wormhole." 

"If we weren't on _Voyager_, we'd be dead or in prison now. Thank God for the Caretaker and Captain Janeway." They all nodded at that. Chakotay smiled. He also thanked the spirits for her, but he had additional reasons. 

And so it went around the room. Dear John letters, notices of divorce, reminders that life went on at home without them - all were represented. And some didn't even get that. Not every letter got through. Some had the same tantalizing bits that Tom Paris did, and others not even that. Seven, of course, stood aloof. Chakotay could see that some were jealous of that. 

He quietly let it be known that he'd be available for counseling during the next few days. After all, not everyone had the resources he did. He was about to leave when he saw Janeway sitting by herself. 

"Mind if I join you, Kathryn?" 

She looked up at him. "I've been watching you. You didn't miss anyone, did you?" 

"I'm your first officer. That's my job." He sat down. 

"It's also my job." 

"You have your own troubles." 

"Do I? Or am I just unhappy that my safety net is gone?" She took a sip of her coffee. "What about you, Chakotay?" 

"I'm fine." 

She sat silently for a moment, staring at him. Then she touched his hand. "If you say so. Promise me this, Chakotay. If there comes a moment when you aren't fine, tell me. I'm not just your captain. I'm your friend." 

He nodded. "I know you are. Thank you. This time it isn't necessary." 

They went on to talk of inconsequentialities and ship's gossip. This was Chakotay's main weakness. If he didn't know the latest dirt, no one did. Janeway exploited that ruthlessly, since no one else would gossip with the captain. Not that some of it wasn't painfully obvious. Harry Kim and Seven, for example. He was standing next to her now, trying to interest her in his letter from home. She was clearly uninterested in the letter. Both chortled over this. Even so, Janeway told Chakotay to keep an eye out for troubles. Harry Kim was in many ways an innocent. 

The rather gloomy party broke up soon after, and all drifted to other activities or duty stations. Chakotay went to his cabin. 

He changed into more comfortable clothing. His uniform had once again become a part of him, so he didn't mind meditating in it, but this time it seemed to chafe. He chose a long, loose robe instead. 

He settled on the floor with his medicine bundle. He *was* fine. He knew that, but the day had been unsettled and it was a good time to center himself and to commune with his spirit animal. 

He held the bundle in his hand and began the ritual phrase. "A-kee- chee-moy-ya. We are far from the sacred places of our ancestors..." He could not continue. Something was stopping him, something he couldn't see or fight. It was as though there was a brick wall between him and the journey he needed to take. 

He took some deep breaths. He began another chant, one meant to calm the spirit. It usually worked, but it didn't this time. He couldn't center himself properly, and he couldn't think why. 

Instead, he grew angry. It had been a long time since he'd been that angry. He'd been fighting the Federation then. He'd been at peace for so many years, serving under Kathryn Janeway. He'd belonged there at her side like he'd never belonged anywhere else. Where did the anger come from? He stopped trying to think - it only made him angrier. He didn't care where it originated. He just wanted to deal with it. 

He found an artifact they'd picked up - an elegant glass vase that had struck his fancy because of its organic curves. He'd come aboard Voyager with nothing, but now he had a cabin full of such things. It wasn't home, it was the best he could do. Suddenly, that wasn't enough. 

He tossed the pretty thing across the room. It hit the cabin bulkhead with a satisfying crash. Yes, that felt good. He didn't want to think why it felt good. Instead, he found some other fragile souvenir to toss. This time, the delicate-looking crystal sculpture didn't break. It bounced against the bulkhead with a resounding thunk, but it didn't break. So he picked it up and did it again, harder. It stubbornly stayed intact. 

He was about to throw it again when someone signaled at his door. He didn't say anything, but the door opened. Still holding the sculpture, he turned to face the door. There was Janeway in a robe. Her hair was disheveled and she looked rather perturbed. 

"May I suggest, Commander, that if you really want to redecorate, you find some quieter way of doing it?" 

He stood there, breathing hard. "What is it, Captain?" 

"Either throw that thing or put it down. That's carbon crystal. Diamond. It's not going to break." He looked at it and remembered that *she'd* given it to him as a birthday present two years earlier. It was a replicated miniature of a piece of public art he'd admired. For one moment, he had the urge to throw it back to her, but instead he put it down. 

"Very well. What do you want, Captain?" 

"May I come in?" He nodded curtly. She looked at the broken glass as she walked in the door. She didn't look surprised. 

"I wondered what that was." She glanced him and took a seat on his couch. 

"You heard? I didn't want to wake you." He kept his anger down to a simmer as he sat down beside her. 

"My bed is against that wall. I couldn't help but hear. However, I was wide awake. I was rereading Mark's letter." 

"Why are you torturing yourself?" 

"I'm not. I was a little upset when I first read it, but I'm not now. I miss him but I stopped being in love with him a while ago. I can't say I'm relieved, not yet, but it doesn't hurt the way I thought it would." 

She looked at him with those clear eyes that saw straight into his soul. 

"I wish you could say the same thing." 

"I'm fine, Kathryn." 

"People who are 'fine' don't toss vases around. You can't lie to me, Chakotay. I can see him." 

"See who?" He knew the answer, but couldn't admit it. 

"The angry warrior. He's still there inside of you. And right now he wants to get out." 

"I can manage it." She leaned her head towards the shards of glass on the floor. "That was momentary." 

"That's why you tried to break the sculpture? Don't lie to me. Don't lie to yourself." 

Chakotay stood up abruptly. His hands were clenched. 

"How dare you say anything! You have no idea! You and your Federation! If it weren't for that treaty, my family, my friends, my home...Oh, spirits, my home! It would still exist!" He reached towards her, but stopped short of touching her. She didn't flinch. 

"Do you hate me that much?" Her voice was as calm as her demeanor. 

"Hate? I could never hate you, Kathryn. I hate the Federation and the Cardassians and whoever the Dominion is, but not you. Oh, God! What was I going to do to you?" He collapsed back on the couch. 

"Nothing. You would never hurt me. I trust you with my life, Chakotay." She took his hand. 

"All of them are gone. My home is gone. That's why I joined the Maquis in the first place - to protect my home. When we got here, I could accept that I wouldn't see the people anymore. I thought of them as gone. It was easier that way." 

"You aren't the only one to do that. I couldn't, I had to believe we'd return and everyone would be waiting for us." 

"I know. It's part of your strength. It's one of the things I...love about you." He looked at her, but she showed no sign of hearing that. "I had to believe them out of my reach forever. But home - that would remain and wait for me. Everyone has driving forces. For me, it's home and family. And now, both are gone." His eyes stung. He rubbed them. His hands came away wet. 

"Are they? Are they really?" 

"Yes!" He felt his hands clenching again. Then he stopped. "No. That home is gone, and that family is gone, but there is another." 

"Is there?" 

"I'm sitting in it. You've been saying it all along. Even though you keep pointing us towards the Federation, you kept saying this was home and family." 

"We are going home, Chakotay. I will take this ship home. But meanwhile, we're here for a long time. And while we are, it's also home." 

"That's why I had to destroy that vase, I think. It helped make this place my home, and I couldn't let it. I was forgetting, and it made me angry." He took some deep breaths. "I'm still angry, but I know why, now. I can work with it." 

"Work with something else, too." 

"What?" 

"Me. I was clinging to Mark like a lifeline. I loved him very much, and we would have had a wonderful marriage. But now that can't be, and I think I'm glad. I won't be betraying him. I can't even say I miss him that much. He's a memory. One that I will cherish always, but... we're here." 

"Not now." 

"No. But soon, my angry warrior. Soon. We both want something to cherish that isn't a memory." She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. He touched the place. 

"I'm going back to my cabin. Please don't destroy your cabin, Chakotay." He smiled. He still had to work with his anger, but now he knew he could. 

* * *

That was forty years ago. There were four generations on Voyager, and far too many of the original crew were gone. Harry never got a chance to lose his innocence, but he'd be a great-grandfather if he had lived. Seven proved to be an excellent mother. 

He and Kathryn had been forty years together. There never had been a need to formalize it with a marriage. Forty years was a long time for one woman to be in charge, even if she wasn't alone. She'd become physically frail, just like her starship, but she was still stronger than he could ever be. He doubted he could have held the crew together as she did, or maintained the discipline she maintained. 

Despite his care, she woke. She blinked her eyes in an attempt to focus. 

"Sweetheart. How was the shift?" Her voice was barely over a whisper. 

"Mata Paris is doing a fine job. You picked the right one." 

"I know. Our goddaughter has good genes. She'll take us home." 

"You will take us home, my love." 

She just smiled. He held her gently in his arms. "You are so beautiful, my Kathryn." 

"Always and only in your eyes, my love. *You* look exhausted." 

"I am. Kathryn...Tom and B'Elanna are retired now. They're younger than we are, and B'Elanna has a Klingon lifespan. Maybe..." 

"It's my ship." For a moment, her voice held her old power. "And maybe you're right. I'll think about it. Mata doesn't need us second guessing her, does she?" 

He shook his head, and, like they had done so many times over the years, they fell asleep in each others' arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright 1998 Debra Fran Baker and NightRoads Associates


End file.
